


Payback

by fawatson



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: Bunny, Ralph, Laurie and Charles go to a party.





	Payback

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deliarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliarium/gifts).



> **Request:** Ralph and Laurie running into Charles Fosticue (Laurie's ex-boyfriend from Oxford) at a party. (Possible opportunity for bitchy!Laurie and proprietary!Ralph?) Or any story about Ralph and Laurie brushing up against the rest of the Bridstow queer scene, and how its members perceive them as individuals and as a couple. (I've always wanted to know the gossips' reactions to Ralph throwing Bunny over for Laurie, and what are the "entre nous" rumors circulating about Ralph?)  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit by them. 
> 
> **Author’s Notes:** Blanc-cassis is the pre-1945 name for Kir. Blackcurrant cordial was invented in 1933 and marketed as Ribena from 1938. During WWII, blockades meant oranges were scarce; so the government encouraged the cultivation of blackcurrants, which were made into a syrup that was distributed free to children (without the brand-name) because blackcurrants are high in vitamins.

Theo did not ring ahead to check he would be welcome; he knew he wouldn’t be. Instead, he simply appeared on Bunny’s doorstep. It took a little while before he opened the door; Bunny did not look at all pleased to see who had come to visit. He was not asked in; Theo ignored this and stepped into the door and, true to his cowardly self, Bunny gave way. 

“In the neighbourhood, were you?” 

“Don’t be more stupid than you have to be, Bunny.” 

If anything, indignation made Bunny look even more beautiful. “Well, I like that! Insulted in my own home by my guest!”

“Guest?” Theo’s voice was scathing. “Cut the chaff, Bunny: we’re not friends, never have been. If it weren’t for Alec and Sandy we’d never have met.” 

“So what brings my ‘not-friend’ to visit this fine sunny morn?” 

“I just came to issue a warning.” 

“And?” 

“Leave them alone, Bunny.” As Bunny opened his mouth, assuming a look of injured innocence on his face, he added, “No, don’t try to pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about. I’ve been hearing your poisonous comments all over town. In case it has missed you by: you’re a newcomer to the scene here in Bridstow. You don’t really belong; you’re here for the duration of your assignment and should be moving on soon enough. We tolerated you because of Ralph and we will _stop_ tolerating you if you cause him trouble. So no creating a fuss because Ralph is happy now with Laurie. Hear?”

Bunny nodded, silently. 

“I’ll see myself out.” 

And he was gone, leaving Bunny with his aching head. These days it was thoroughly unpleasant being in Bridstow and he had somewhat drowned his sorrows last night; he felt like doing so again. Theo now made it five people who’d openly warned him off. That didn’t count all the others who had been less open but who clearly shared Theo’s sentiments. _They_ had let him know how they felt through sidelong glances and snarky remarks. Well, he understood _those_. Bunny rather prided himself on his mastery of the snide comment. It wasn’t fun to be on the receiving end though. 

It was time for him to move on. His plans had been made; two days ago he had received fresh orders – for Wick (he’d had to look it up on a map and shuddered when he learned it was in northern Scotland). It would not have been his first choice of posting; but these little things are sent to try us. No doubt he would wangle another transfer in a month or two. It would raise no eyebrows. His type of expertise meant he tended to make the rounds. (Truth be told, his assignment in Bridstow had lasted longer than usual.) Meanwhile there was always leave. His bruises were gone – nothing to stop him hunting in new territory. Not before, however, he had some last fun. 

This evening’s party was being hosted by Patrick – or Patricia as she was known to her intimates. Bunny thought the middle-aged man with his sagging waistline, double chin, and bulbous red nose looked utterly ridiculous in frills. But there was no question Patricia was a well-established member of the local scene, having been quartermaster for the naval docks for years. He was generous and noted for his parties; it had been through one of the man’s gatherings that Bunny and Ralph had got together. Ralph’s RNVR connection ensured he would get an invitation. Would he attend? There was the possibility he would not. He was honeymooning with Laurie, after all, and Laurie had struck Bunny as one of life’s innocents. His obvious discomfort with people like Claude suggested he would not want to attend another party. But Ralph would also not like to cut Pat. In the weeks Bunny had been with Ralph, it had been very evident he valued the old queer. Probably he would at least look in – with or without his Innamorato. 

He wore a dinner jacket; Bunny knew he looked his best in either uniform or dinner jacket; they provided a good foil to his slightly feminine features. (He wore a pencil moustache, kept impeccably trimmed, for the same reason.) He timed his entrance carefully. There were sufficient numbers to hide his arrival in the crowd, just in case someone was on the lookout for him and wanted to object. He was an inveterate party-goer, known for usually arriving early and staying late, so by coming midway through, anyone lying in wait would have concluded he had decided to miss this one. The party was in full swing, but not at its absolute height, at which point it would become impossible to circulate. He made a beeline for the bar and inveigled himself behind it to serve. That way he could keep tabs on who was coming and going without being obvious, while indulging in his favourite hobby: gossip, preferably malicious. 

Serving drinks brought back pre-war memories for Bunny; there had been a time when he made ends meet serving bar. He knew all the tricks: how to substitute the cheaper booze for the more expensive label; when to short-measure a customer (and when not to). And how to make a drink that tasted as close to the real thing as possible when all the required ingredients weren’t available. Which is what he tried when a beautiful blond ordered blanc-cassis. Pat had stocked up on wine, but cassis was a thing of the past. He substituted the ubiquitous, but oh-so-healthy blackcurrant cordial, turning his back as he poured so the man wouldn’t be able to see. It would be a little sweet, but close enough to the real thing. Except clearly it wasn’t. 

“No cassis?” came the soft challenge. 

“Not available for love nor money, ducky,” Bunny acknowledged. “You’re new in town, aren’t you? Staying long?” 

“Just here for a week’s leave,” the blond explained, “I was invited by someone I know at the airbase; but Red seems to be busy just now.” He nodded in the direction of a handsome stocky man with auburn hair who was kissing a tall lieutenant in the opposite corner of the room. “My downfall, always, those fickle redheads, though it’s hard to blame him. Who wouldn’t prefer a man in uniform over civvies? Story of my life: being thrown over by a man who prefers the military.” He continued, his talk a steady stream of gossip, innuendo, and risqué jokes, entertaining enough in its fashion, but a lot of sound without much content. 

Bunny was only half-listening while he served until he heard a familiar name. “ _Who_ did you say you were?” he asked, eyes narrowed as he examined the blond’s face. 

“Charles Fosticue – Charlie to my especial friends,” the blond said archly. 

“And you come from Oxford?” 

“Bletchley, actually – though I used to be up at Oxford before the war. Why, were you there too? I don’t remember seeing you.” 

“Knew someone, rather,” Bunny replied, “an old friend of yours who told me _all_ about you.”

“Do tell!” 

“Laurie Odell,” said Bunny, “in fact, you should be able to renew your acquaintance shortly, as I understand he is expected, with his latest in tow.” 

Charles’s surprise was obvious, “his latest?” 

“Changed a bit since your time?” asked Bunny in seeming innocence.

“He was positively the blushing bride when I knew him, darling. The time I spent wooing him, all to no avail.”

“Bold enough now: from all accounts he propositioned Ralph Lanyon on the way over from Dunkirk.” Bunny recounted, “Ralph and I had a thing going at one point; but Laurie made a dead-set for him and played the wounded hero card, and Ralph fell for it like nine-pins.” 

They were interrupted by a group clamouring for G&Ts, and by the time Bunny was free Charles had drifted away in company of some other new person Bunny did not recognise. That was the problem with Bridstow: no stability. Bunny liked to be the new person in town whom everyone wanted to meet; but wartime ports had a lot of comings and goings. 

He looked across the room to see Pat effusively greeting Ralph. He could well imagine Ralph’s quiet distaste. One did not show one’s emotions in public in Ralph’s upright and stoic universe. He tolerated Pat’s camp persona because in the rest of his life the man was straight as a die. And Laurie…? Ah! There he was, fading into the background again. It seemed to be the man’s modus operandi in a social situation, not one Bunny had much use for. Bunny watched with growing delight as Ralph solicitously parked Laurie on the edge of a sofa while he made his way toward the bar. His progress was slow. Ralph was well known and well respected within the Bridstow scene and he could take no more than two steps before someone stopped him. And the longer he took, the more the chance of….

It was a farce worthy of the Marx brothers. Just as Ralph reached the bar to find himself face-to-face with Bunny, forced to be polite because he was a guest in another man’s home, Charles-call-me-Charlie turned round and spied Laurie looking deeply uncomfortable in his seat and made a dramatic swoop on him with hugs and kisses. Bunny simply poured Ralph two drinks: one glass of white wine and a double of rum (sorry, we’re out of scotch) while he watched over Ralph’s shoulder. Oh joy! Charles even sat down beside Laurie – practically in his lap – with an arm round his shoulders and one hand familiarly on his knee! 

Such a pity he could not see Ralph’s face as he turned round, drinks in hand. But the set of his shoulders made his feelings known (so much for not showing his emotions). The shortest route is normally a straight line between two points and Bunny gave Ralph full marks for trying. But the crowd had thickened considerably since he and Laurie arrived and there really was no path between the crush of people, still less a straight one. Ralph was about the middle of the room by the time Laurie’s patience and politeness were exhausted and he stood up abruptly, jostling the person in front of him who stumbled over Charles’ feet, who squealed and giggled and reached round to pull Laurie down on top of him. Bunny watched in glee as Ralph finally arrived by Laurie’s side, face like thunder, and poured the glass of wine (how _had_ he managed to get that across the room without spilling?) over Charles’ head (catching Laurie as well), before he quaffed his own drink in one gulp, dropped both glasses on the floor and punched Charles in the face. In his eagerness to defend the honour of his lover, Ralph had not pulled Charles to his feet before throwing the punch with the result he was hitting downward which put him off balance. The inevitable happened: Ralph fell on Charles. There was something like a domino effect in that corner of the room as nearby guests tried to intervene, coming to the aid of Charles who appeared very much the victim, and trying to restrain an increasingly irate Ralph. 

Bunny’s shoulders shook with laughter. The unexpected serendipity of Charles’ visit to Bridstow had led to better payback to Ralph than anything Bunny could have devised. Plus, no matter how suspicious Ralph might be because Bunny was present, there was no denying the fact he was the opposite side of the room when Laurie was accosted. Bunny poured himself a large vodka and quietly toasted Ralph and Laurie: may they always be as happy as they were now.


End file.
